Extraction by Three
by Nightengale
Summary: After the success of inception Arthur, Eames, and Ariadne form an extraction team, stealing secrets with success and sometimes failure and danger. Together the three travel the world of dreams, adventure after adventure. -ArthurEames but not the focus-


Their first job as a trio ends up not in Los Angeles as Arthur had planned or Casablanca as Eames had joked or Sidney as Ariadne had crossed her fingers for but in fact Cairo.

(It would have been a quartet but Yusuf told them to 'stuff it, he's staying at his shop for a while, thanks, hope you don't die.')

The dream consists of one cityscape layer, two forges and Arthur getting shot in the shoulder.

"I said twenty minutes." Arthur throws stacks of papers for the incinerator in Eames' general direction. "Twenty minutes and surprise knock at the door. She says, 'Oh hello, where have you been? I'll deal with this later.' But, no, instead it's you: 'Whoops, sorry Arthur, got detained, how's the shoulder?'"

"How is the shoulder? Still have that psychosomatic smarting, dear?"

Arthur twitches once and glares. "You're lucky we're not dreaming."

"Beware the trigger finger, eh?"

Arthur hits Eames in the face with a folder but Ariadne catches the case of drafting pencils before it can peg Eames in the eye.

"I'm saving these, don't get blood on them."

"Yes, Arthur," Eames picks up the silver PASIV case as they head to the door, "mustn't destroy our dear architect's tools."

"I really hate you."

Eames kisses Arthur's cheek. "No, you don't."

Ariadne almost slams the door in their faces as she goes through first.

"I hate you both." She winks back at them.

In addition to personal annoyance, they learn during the dream their mark owns a house in Thailand for easy access to his favored sexual pastimes as well as a second bank account in Morocco for his money laundering. Saxon and Co pay them a bonus.

* * *

Three is a fine number; less people to pay, less to keep the secrets they learn, and less to keep hidden from the mark. Plus they already know they work together well and none of them have dead wives creeping around in limbo. Arthur brings the seriousness, that unfailing perfection and work ethic. Eames brings the style and imagination, a million faces with bodies to match and trip up any mark. Ariadne brings the creation, art painted in shards of light inside buildings of the mind.

Together they become your friends, reaching into your back pocket to pluck out your wallet and learn all your secrets while you smile on. Unlike Cobb's method of deception and Mr. Charles, Eames and Arthur learn that happiness and fun breeds ease. Ease breeds unlocking safes and secrets in hand. Ariadne creates a world tailored just to their mark's pleasures so her boys can sweep in and show each mark a good time until they take away the treasure.

(At least that's one way. Good old fashioned fear and intimidation are always perfect back ups.)

One, two, three, extraction in the bag. Arthur's trigger finger stays true; Eames smile does not falter; and Ariadne balances it all, bringing utter realism to every single dream.

At least that's the plan. In dreams things twist and change; one never does know just what to expect.

* * *

"I love casino jobs," Eames says as he slides onto the stool beside Ariadne at the bar, facing out toward the casino.

Ariadne glances at the redhead decked out in a slinky purple dress out of the corner of her eye. "You just had to make her busty."

Eames smiles but does not look at the other woman. He brushes a hand through his short wavy hair.

"Best thing to distract most men, as I am sure you are well aware, my dear."

Ariadne nods. "True."

Eames turns gracefully and picks up the Manhattan set down by the bar tender. He gives the man a wink full of eyelashes then swivels back around to watch the tables. Ariadne sips her mojito then glances at Eames again. He certainly does have a good amount of cleavage showing in the strapless dress.

"Are you going for the stripper look?" Ariadne asks.

Eames laughs. "Why, do I look like one?"

"No," she says quickly. Eames glances over at her and Ariadne points at Eames' tasteful black heels. "You'd need some boots."

Eames turns away and takes a sip of his drink. "Next time."

Ariadne finishes her drink then turns around in her stool. Three tables away they can see Arthur playing poker with their mark.

"Remind me again why Arthur is gambling and you're not?"

"Because Arthur will lose and that will make Mr. Dodds quite happy." Eames takes a sip from his glass. "I also look better in the dress."

At the table, Arthur folds and glances at the two women quickly. Eames puts his drink down behind him on the bar then stands up gracefully. He winks at Ariadne.

"My cue."

"Shake those hips," Ariadne says then turns back around to the bar.

She checks her watch. Five minutes for Eames to distract their mark giving Arthur five more to run up to Dodds' hotel room and reach the safe; finishing with an extra five to analyze the secret papers, reconvene together at the bar, then all kick back with some lovely French singing. So far they've had no trouble from the projections so the job should go smoothly if the pattern keeps up. Still best to stay on alert, however.

Suddenly, someone taps Ariadne's shoulder. She turns and almost chokes in surprise to see their mark smiling back at her.

"I'm Matt," he says motioning to the bottles behind the bar, "buy you a drink?"

Ariadne glances over at the poker table quickly. Arthur and the redhead beside him are staring at her in surprise. She looks back to Dodds and smiles quickly.

"Sure."

"Martini? Cosmo? Or are you a simple beer girl?" he asks.

"Uh, a martini is good."

Dodds sits down beside her and waves a hand at the bar tender, putting up two fingers.

"I was talking to your friend over there." Dodds motions lazily behind him. "She said you could use some company."

"My friend?"

"Purple dress," Dodds says taking the two martini's from the bar tender.

Ariadne shoots an annoyed look at Eames. He only tilts his pretty head and mouths 'brunettes' at her. Ariadne narrows her eyes and takes the offered glass.

"I see."

Dodds laughs. "Well, I admit, I asked her about you first."

"I'm flattered." Ariadne sees Arthur moving toward the stairs out of the corner of her eye. "You came all the way over here just for me."

Dodds brushes a stray hair out of Ariadne's face in all too transparent 'charming guy' move. He clinks his glass against hers.

"I can't let a lady go without a drink."

"Lucky me."

Ariadne shifts herself on her chair so she can keep one eye on Dodds and one eye on the rest of the casino. She sees Eames in a black suit and the face she knows sitting down at the poker table. He flips a familiar red poker chip then catches it. Raising his hands, he claps soundlessly in her direction. Ariadne snorts.

"So, tell me all about yourself," Dodds says touching her hand.

Ariadne sighs, time for some improvisation, then smiles prettily; "I'd rather hear about you, Matt."

* * *

Planning night number four at Ariadne's New York apartment. Their mark is spectacularly more boring than any other mark they've had which turns out to make the job harder than expected. For one it narrows down the dreaming choices and drives Ariadne up the wall.

"He's in at eight every day without fail." Eames flips over a page and hands one to Arthur. "Out depends on the brief he's working on, dullest cases. He usually gets himself away by seven."

"If he's inconsistent on when he leaves then maybe it should be a morning job."

"Or a home job," Eames twirls a finger in the air. "He lives alone in a rather large house."

"He is a lawyer," Arthur concedes. "They do tend to enjoy spending the money they make."

"Ah, don't we all?" Eames grins then taps the page on the table in front of him. "I can have the layout of his office for you if you'd like."

"You stick to his boss' hand gestures. I'll handle the buildings."

Suddenly, Ariadne makes a loud, angry noise and smacks her drawing board. "We need a mark who's Scottish!"

Eames and Arthur both start in surprise. Arthur gives a confused look to Ariadne's back then the same to Eames.

"And why, pray tell, is that?" Eames asks.

Ariadne twirls her pen around in her fingers and turns her chair away from her drawing board to face the two men. She grins and flings up her hands.

"I want to build a castle." She points over her shoulder. "This is boring the hell out of me. A castle would be a challenge." She holds up her hands. "So, Scottish."

"Oh, well, of course," Arthur says snidely, "has to be Scottish for a castle."

"Just because you're not building castles, Arthur, does not mean you should rain on our dear girl's parade."

"She's not building castles either."

"My whole point!" Ariadne cries, throwing her hands up again.

"Okay, sure," Arthur waves a hand, "I'll get right out there and find the first guy in a kilt."

Ariadne sighs. "Not everyone in Scotland wears kilts."

"And how would you know?"

"Oh, no, she's quite right, Arthur." Eames taps Arthur on the knee. "The women tend toward pants a bit more in fact."

"Why don't we just focus on this?" Arthur points to the papers.

"Not interested in kilts then?"

Arthur sighs. "Eames..."

"You would look rather charming in a kilt, I think." Eames fingers the edge of Arthur's pants. "Give you a little breeze?"

Ariadne bursts out laughing while Arthur just glares then points at the other man, "Couch."

Eames' smile vanishes and Ariadne nearly falls off her chair.

"You don't have a couch at your apartment." Eames smiles again.

"Worse for you then." Arthur stands up and shrugs his jacket on.

Eames crosses his arms and leans his chair back on two legs. "Arthur, love, no need to be upset over a thing like kilts."

Arthur spares Eames a glare then picks up his things and heads for the door. Eames jumps out of the chair and puts himself between Arthur and the door.

"Now, do you want me to chase you? I think you're just being pouty on purpose."

"Do I look pouty?"

"Yes," Eames and Ariadne both respond.

Arthur tries to get around Eames but Eames keeps himself in the way.

"I know you're tired, love." Eames puts his hands on Arthur's waist and slowly walks him backwards. "And you probably have had enough for one day but just stay a bit longer so we can help our girl here. I promise to be on task."

"Thank you." Ariadne stands, picking up her cell phone. "I say Chinese."

Eames lightly pushes Arthur back down into a chair. Arthur sighs and looks up at the Englishman. Eames cups his cheek and gives him a kiss.

"Still putting me on the couch?"

Arthur shakes his head once. "I don't have a couch."

Eames shrugs. "I suppose I'll have to make due with your bed."

"How terrible for you," Arthur replies.

Eames leans down, kissing Arthur again. Arthur slides his hands around Eames stomach, pulling him forward slightly so his shins bump against the edge of the chair. Eames runs a hand down Arthur's tie then whispers in his ear.

"Oh, I think I'll manage."

* * *

They run through narrow Italian streets, uneven stones and decay threatening to trip them up at any moment. Ariadne leads the way, architecture bending just slightly where needed. Eames follows behind reading the pages they stole as he runs, one eye ahead and one eye down. Arthur brings up the rear; half forwards, half backwards as he runs, shooting at projections of Italian police shouting out words that almost aren't even a real language. The projections practically spit their rage and the bullets which miss hit stone above them to rain down just as deadly.

"Argentina!" Eames shouts as they run. "Dummy corps in Buenos Aires."

"Left!" Ariadne shouts in response, grabbing Eames by his shirt to swing him the right direction.

"Don't stop reading, you –" Arthur ducks a flying chunk of stone and shoots one policeman in the chest. "You need the man's name!"

"Thank you, love, I am well aware."

Suddenly they pass a side street and two police fly out, one slamming Eames into the wall and the other clothes-lining Arthur.

"Fuck!" Eames snaps.

He shoves back and viciously clocks the man in the jaw with his elbow. The policeman hits the wall in a spin and collapses to the stone street.

The other projection plants a foot on Arthur's chest and cocks her gun.

"Hey! Basta!" Ariadne shouts and the woman looks up.

A gun appears in Ariadne's hand and she shoots the policewoman right in the forehead. Eames whips around and raises an eyebrow at her.

"So, you have been practicing."

She just smirks.

Eames turns back and leans down to grasp Arthur's hands, pulling up. "Come on, darling, no time for a lie down."

"My neck..." Arthur groans quietly.

"So, duck next time."

"Bastard," Arthur says as he stands.

Eames rubs a hand across Arthur's neck then picks up the papers and Arthur's dropped gun, handing the latter to the point man. Arthur cocks it once and the clip fills up again.

"So?" Arthur points to the papers Eames holds.

Eames opens his mouth then Ariadne shouts, "Run!"

Stone explodes just next to Arthur's ear, nicking him in the neck.

All three turn and rocket down the alley again. As they run Ariadne pulls a round ball out of her pocket. Suddenly, she slams it into the wall to her left and a wooden door materializes around it. She turns the door knob and the door swings open.

"We're going up."

Arthur plants at the front of the door, shooting over Eames' shoulder as he catches up, one paper tossed aside as he goes. He bounds up the stairs, grabbing Arthur's arm and pulling him through on the way. The door slams shut into stone behind them.

The stairs are slick, a little foggy from instantaneous creation, but to Ariadne's credit they stay stable. The three extractors wind up and up as if heading to the top of a tall castle tower until they come out into a hall some four or five stories up. The wall across from them is mostly windows looking out onto a view of domed buildings and pottery tiled roofs. The hall looks like a second rate Vatican or an old English university.

They stop for a moment, Arthur looking up and down the hall with gun drawn.

"Eames?" Ariadne asks, shutting a new door over the stairs they came up.

Eames bites his lip as he turns over the page.

"We should have about two minutes," Arthur says over his shoulder to the others.

"Come on, Eames!" Ariadne shouts.

"I am reading as fast as I can. It is in Spanish, thank you."

"Italian, Spanish," Arthur all but growls, "Why can't they just dream in English?"

"Ah ha!" Eames suddenly cries.

Before he can say more Ariadne gasps and yanks him down by his collar as the wall opposite them explodes. The force knocks Arthur off his feet and sends a shower of glass over all three. Arthur and Ariadne jump back up as three black garbed policemen climb in through the newly made hole in the wall. Arthur snaps off two shots taking down a cop for each. The third policeman shoots the wall just above Eames' head, still on the floor, but Ariadne gets him in the thigh taking him down.

"Come on," she pulls at Eames' arm, "get up."

Eames stumbles to his feet, a deep gash across his forehead.

"You okay?" Arthur asks.

Eames rubs blood away from his eyes. "Damn glass."

"We have to keep moving." Ariadne heads off to the right. "There will be more."

Arthur places a hand between Eames' shoulder blades and pushes him after the architect.

They run quickly until they reach an archway leading to a bridge between the building they're inside and an adjacent one. Ariadne dashes out then abruptly stops in the middle. Projections have appeared at the other end of the bridge.

"Shit." Ariadne turns around but new police have started to catch up behind them.

"Think I've found the name," Eames shouts, eyes scanning the page, "It's right -"

A gust of wind suddenly whips the paper out of Eames' hand into the air. It starts to flutter upwards and away from the bridge.

"No!" Ariadne shouts.

She jumps up onto the edge of the bridge then leaps into the open air. Where her foot lands in space a stone step appears and with each motion up more stairs grow under her feet. She makes six steps up toward the sky, high enough so she can reach out and snatch the paper from the air.

She turns at the top step to look back at the men. "I can't read Spanish!"

Then she screams as a gun shot catches her in the shoulder knocking her to her back on the top step.

"Hang on, dear!" Eames climbs up onto the ledge and up the steps, dodging a gun shot.

Arthur gets up onto the edge, shooting right and left as he goes. He doesn't make it further than one foot up before projections grab his other leg and pull him back. Ariadne and Eames hear bones break as Arthur is thrown down onto the stone with an anguished scream.

"Eames!" Ariadne shouts, cradling her wounded shoulder.

Eames whirls around quickly, gun pulled from an inspired place in his coat and he shoots Arthur in the neck with a spectacular splatter of blood. The two on the stairs hiss.

"Jeeze, Eames," Ariadne groans, handing Eames the paper, "some aim."

"Not just where I'd intended..."

_'Non, rien, de rien, non, je ne regrette rien.'_

They both glance up to the sky then down at the projections scrambling up onto the ledge of the bridge toward their sky steps. Eames' eyes shift back to the paper in his hand.

"So?" Ariadne grimaces in pain. "Before we're torn apart too?"

Eames looks up and smiles smugly at her. "Gustavo Acosta."

They kick back.

* * *

"So, Saito didn't have enough with inception?" Eames asks, kicking his legs up on the table. "He needs another go and why not a simple extraction this time?"

"Are you complaining about having a job?" Arthur knocks his feet off the table.

Eames purses his lips and looks over at Arthur. "Was I complaining?"

"Okay, okay." Ariadne waves her hands at them from where she stands on the other side of the table. "Saito needs information about the attack on his power plant so we're going to get it."

"Yes, ma'am." Eames turns back to her and smiles obligingly.

"Our target is head of an opposing company." Ariadne flips through a folder of papers. "Surprise, surprise, more corporate espionage and intrigue."

Arthur clears his throat and sits up straight. "I should mention we do have one problem."

They both look at Arthur. Before either can ask 'what problem' someone knocks on the studio door. In perfect time they look to the door then back to Arthur. Arthur gives them a grim smile. Eames stands up and opens the door a crack.

"Hai?" Eames asks.

"I'm Hiro."

"And?"

Arthur slides over and opens the door all the way. "Come in."

Eames furrows his eyebrows at Arthur as the man walks in. Arthur just shakes his head. Eames turns and follows Hiro, hovering just behind him.

"And you are?"

"This is Hiro." Arthur motions at the young man who waves. "He works for Saito."

"Another tourist?" Eames asks, sitting back down.

"I'm a defector." Hiro grins proudly. "I used to work for Kobayashi & Bates."

"Information then," Ariadne says.

Hiro spreads his arms wide and bows slightly. He steps around the table then leans his thigh against it beside Ariadne.

"I'm your man." He grins and raises his eyebrows a few times. "Always glad to help out, assist in any way I can. Anything at all, anything you need, name it; for you, I'm here."

Ariadne looks like she wants to shoot him dream or no dream. "Great... Thanks."

"Are you quite serious, Arthur?" Eames peers at his partner out of the corner of his eye.

"So!" Arthur says sternly. "The plan?"

Hiro whirls around to face the men, still keeping himself right beside Ariadne. She glares at the side of his head.

"You all need to create some dream world for Kobayashi, right? Well, he's always at the office so I thought, buh bam," he drums his hands twice on the table; "why not that?"

Ariadne clears her throat. "Okay, so any information you can give us about his building will help us do that."

"It's an office building." Hiro shrugs. "Gray, desks, elevators, you know, same as back in America."

Eames turns fully and stares at Arthur in disbelief.

"Got it," Ariadne makes a circle with her fingers, "but we need more than that. The dream has to be believable. It has to be exactly like real life if this is the route we go."

Hiro blinks slowly at her. "Oh… gotchya. So, maybe some pictures of it?"

"You're American, aren't you?" Eames asks.

Hiro grins. "Yeah, born there, moved here two years ago. Have I got the Japanese accent down yet? Don't I look Japanese enough? Everyone always knows!"

"Really?" Eames puts a hand on his chest. "I just can't think how."

"I know, right?"

Ariadne taps a finger on the table to regain attention. "About the building…"

"Maybe you should just make a whole new one, Ariadne," Arthur suggests, voice icy.

"Oh, I would love to see your work," Hiro grins and sits on the edge of the table. "I'm sure you're very talented."

Ariadne's fingers twitch on the folder she holds.

"Are you quite certain you work for Saito?" Eames asks.

Hiro snorts. "Yeah, four months now."

"Is Saito angry with us?" Eames glances at Arthur and Ariadne.

Arthur tilts his head to the side, not looking at any of them. "Hiro is Saito's sister's husband's nephew as well as a former member of the opposition."

Hiro bows again. "That would be me."

Eames scoffs. "You are kidding."

"Are you blackmailing Saito?" Ariadne asks.

Hiro laughs and slaps the table once. "I do love a woman with a sense of humor. Do you have plans for dinner?"

Ariadne slams the folder down on the table and stalks away. Hiro huffs and turns around to look at Arthur and Eames as if they would share his surprise. Both have a hand over their eyes.

In the dream Arthur has a meeting with Kobayashi about recent safety hazards and problems in the industry while Eames forges the vice president of the company. Eames is sure to suggest negotiations with other energy corporations, such as Saito Industries, to protect the whole. Is Kobayashi worried about what happened to Saito Industries happening to them? Should security be increased? Is there any information to share?

While the boys keep his mind occupied on Saito's company, Ariadne uses the invisibility of women in many Japanese businesses to walk right up to the safe in the president's office and pull out the secret files.

Hiro crouches down beside Ariadne while she quickly scans the pages.

"So... now that we've found the information the job is over."

Ariadne spares him an annoyed glance. "I'm reading."

Hiro blazes on as if she hadn't spoken. "Since we're about done you've got some free time!" He puts a hand on her arm. "I don't know if you've been to much of Tokyo but -"

"Time to wake up."

Ariadne whips a gun out of her pocket and sticks it against Hiro's forehead.

"Wait, what the he -"

She pulls the trigger. Blood splatters onto the paper in her hand and she can't stop a wide grin.

* * *

Arthur and Ariadne sit at a long dinning table with their mark, Nicholas Freeman. The décor of the hall looks very old English with dark wood, hanging tapestries, and various array of antiques scattered decoratively around; windows to the right and a wall showcasing old paintings interspersed with weaponry to the left. Arthur and Ariadne sit to the right of their host while his chief secretary, Eames wearing coal black hair, a crisp blue suit and thin metal glasses, sits to his left.

"And we have a formal proposal written up for you as well," Ariadne says, taking a sip of her wine. "We will submit that as soon as you need."

Freeman nods to Eames who jots down a note on the pad beside his plate.

"If you have any conflicts or internal problems we need to know about..." Arthur asks casually, leaning back in his chair.

Freeman purses his lips and they see his eyes flick to an ornate chest against the wall. Ariadne and Arthur glance quickly at each other. Freeman dabs his mouth with this napkin and puts down his fork.

"I would like to know who it is that hired you."

Ariadne does a double take. "I'm sorry?"

"We're dreaming." Freeman stares hard at the extractors. "And I want to know why."

Arthur and Ariadne both jump up.

"Guards!" Freeman shouts.

Arthur whips out his gun but before he can shoot guards seize his arms and throw his gun away. Ariadne tries to get out of reach but two guards grab her before she can pull her own weapon. Freeman stands up from the table, ignoring Eames standing up slowly as well.

He stalks over to Ariadne and puts his hands on his hips. "I want a name."

She juts out her chin and stares back, silent. Freeman turns from her and looks at Arthur.

"Nothing?" He asks.

Arthur clenches his jaw but keeps eye contact. Freeman flips his blond hair and turns away.

"Fine."

He walks over to one projection guard and nods. The guard pulls out his gun and points it at Arthur. Freeman turns around and addresses Ariadne.

"A name or I find every place to shoot your man here until he can't stop screaming."

Before Ariadne can reply a shot rings out and the guard beside Freeman falls to the ground. Freeman whips around to see Eames, clever grin on his face and gun in his hand, standing on the other side of the table.

"Surprise!" Eames coos.

Arthur and Ariadne both move at once. Arthur flips around, punching one man in the jaw and slamming the other in the stomach. Ariadne yanks one arm free, a chop to the man's neck, only to have the other man holding her arm throw her to the floor.

"Take them down!" Freeman shouts.

More men flood the hall, three going for Eames. One gets a shot to the head but the others grab Eames' arms and get his gun away.

Suddenly, panels of wood begin to crack in the wall. The world outside the windows fades into an unorganized mush of color as the dream starts to falter. Freeman begins to back slowly toward the door.

"Arthur!" Ariadne shouts as she jumps back to her feet. "Freeman is leaving!"

Arthur looks up only to be tackled to the floor by one of the guards he hit.

"Can't let him kill himself," Eames shouts, breaking free of his projections and jumping up onto the table, scattering dish ware.

The men jump up after Eames and he runs down toward the end of the long table. Looking for a weapon, Eames grabs a sword from where it hangs on the wall. Leaping to the floor, he cuts down the two guards in his way and tries to get back to Ariadne and Arthur. However, the men on the table find swords of their own and jump into Eames' path.

"Ah, very clever boys," Eames says. "Hardly fair, though, two on one."

The first guard lunges forward. Eames blocks then swings around to clash with the second. They circle around him slashing out on both sides keeping Eames on the defensive. Eames switches left and right quickly, parrying each sword strike like a metronome. Then he ducks a swing from one side and lunges for the man's mid section barely missing him.

The room starts to shake, everything tilting slightly so they slide to the left until it switches back to horizontal. Above their heads the glass of the two swinging chandeliers abruptly shatters, raining down.

On the other side of the room from Eames, Ariadne swings one high heeled shoe around to impale one man in the ear, dropping him to the ground. However, two projections grab her arms and manage to pin her to the floor before she can fire back again.

Arthur fights with two men as well. He lashes out, quickly kicking one man squarely in the chest. The second smashes his fist into Arthur's stomach, knocking him against the wall. He nearly falls over, stars flashing in his eyes but then he sees a porcelain vase to his left.

"Hey!" Arthur shouts and smashes the vase over one man's head.

The guard Arthur kicked begins to get up from the floor. Before he can move far, Arthur takes the gun of the fallen projection and shoots him.

"Eames!" Arthur shouts over his shoulder, shooting one man holding Ariadne. "Come on!"

Eames glances at the others, ducking swinging metal then thrusting forward to catch one man in the shoulder. The projection stumbles back but doesn't fall, his sword swinging wildly at Eames in response.

"Coming, love!" Eames grins, shifting his weight and taking the offensive.

Eames pushes the man back, cut for cut until he hits the table. The man flips around into open space again as the other guard comes at Eames on the left. Eames barely blocks the swing then kicks a chair in the man's path. He turns to engage the other projection just as a sword stabs into his stomach. Eames makes a strangled cry and drops his sword.

"Arthur!" Ariadne shouts.

Arthur shoots the last man holding her down then turns to where she points in time to see Eames crumple to the ground. Arthur sprints toward the swordsmen, shooting both projections before they have time to switch weapons. Skidding down to his knees, Arthur grabs Eames head. Eames groans in pain at the movement.

"Shh, shh," Arthur hushes.

"Very sorry, dear," Eames groans, "only had one sword to fight the two of them."

Arthur kisses his forehead. "I'll dream you a second next time."

Eames gasps sharply. "Shoot me, please."

Arthur pets Eames' hair and points the gun at his chest. "See you soon." He pulls the trigger with a bang.

When he stands he turns back to Ariadne, all projections taken care of.

She cracks half a smile at him. "You have blood on your suit."

The room shakes again and Arthur scowls. "No more dinner dreams."

They unplug, pack up, and get out before their mark wakes up. They also end up returning half of the down payment to their clients with a 'sorry about that' note. Extraction doesn't always end in success despite their marvelous track record. Luckily it is a first time client and the three of them won't get shot for their troubles, probably.

* * *

By the time they find their way up to their room on the 5th floor it is well past three in the morning. Ariadne stumbles after the boys into their room, her own room key forgotten in a pocket for sure. Arthur bolts the door twice behind them as Eames throws his jacket towards the table against the wall and misses.

"I need..." Ariadne falls face first onto the bed and slowly curls her legs up. "...need water... yeah, or a vodka."

"None for you, dear," Eames says, carefully stepping out of his shoes and pushing them under a chair with his feet.

"We have to be up at 8." Arthur unclasps his watch and places it on the bedside table next to Ariadne. "We have a stop over in Kraków."

"Mmhmm," Eames mummers as he lies down on the other side of the bed leaving a half person sized space between himself and Ariadne.

Arthur glances over. "It's not a three person bed."

"Plenty of space, Arthur," Eames mumbles half into his pillow.

Arthur taps Ariadne's ankle. "Ariadne, you have your own room."

She twitches but doesn't respond. Arthur rubs his hands over his face.

"Both of you get up."

Neither one moves.

"We can't just…" Arthur trails off and sighs.

Ariadne is definitely already asleep and he's certain Eames won't move. He sighs again, taking off his shoes and belt. Slipping in between the two, Arthur settles down and wraps one arm around Eames.

The morning brings Arthur opening his eyes to his cheek resting on Eames' hair. Arthur turns his head to the right to see the clock glowing '7:45' on the side table. Somehow in the night he has ended up on his back with both Eames and Ariadne using his chest for a pillow. Ariadne's one hand rests half under her cheek while Eames has a hand tucked up under Arthur's shirt on his stomach. Arthur feels the finger tips of Eames' other hand wrapped underneath them at the base of his neck.

They should be getting up now so close to eight. Arthur can feel the ache from an uncomfortable night sleep starting in his shoulders and back. Ariadne and Eames still breathe slow and peaceful.

Arthur moves his hands to shake them both awake but ends up just slowly putting them down. He strokes his fingers over Ariadne's hair and kisses Eames' forehead where it meets his hair. Eames breathes in deeply and Arthur feels him smile slowly against his chest. Finger tips begin to make small circles on his stomach.

"No forced wake up call?" Eames asks quietly.

"We should get up."

Ariadne shifts slightly closer and makes a small noise. Head tilting up, Eames nestles his face against Arthur's neck. Fingers brush lightly at the base of his neck and Eames kisses Arthur's skin twice, soft and tired. Arthur involuntarily mirrors Ariadne's contented noise of a moment earlier and glances at the clock again.

"So?" Eames whispers against Arthur.

"Five minutes."

* * *

The dream starts as an island, waves washing gently up on the shore only a foot or so away from their mark, Maria's, feet. Eames walks quietly up to her, barefoot in the sand. He sits down beside her and takes her hand.

"Michael…" She turns to look at him with surprise. "Am I imagining you? You can't be here."

"Why not?" He asks.

She runs a hand through his dark hair and sighs. "You can't be here."

"I am," he says, "even though you wanted me gone."

"No, I didn't."

"Then why did you do it?"

She flinches. "I didn't do anything. You're gone."

"Just as you wanted."

"No," she snaps slightly. "No, I didn't. You started it."

Eames puts a hand to Michael's lips and shakes his head. He lets go of her hand and lays his flat in the sand. He tilts his head, the gesture saying 'I know the truth.' She turns away.

"I did want you gone; I couldn't look at you after," she says to the waves. "I knew."

When she turns back Eames is gone, just a mark in the sand. She laughs once and looks back at the waves. Suddenly a woman walks toward her across the beach, thin yellow dress blowing in the wind. Maria smiles and watches her.

"Hello," Ariadne says then sits down next to Maria. "You look lonely."

"No."

"Yes, you are."

"Why would you think that?"

Ariadne touches the side of her head. "Your eyes."

She looks down almost sheepishly then smiles. She glances back up. "My wife is dead." She pauses. "And my brother."

Ariadne drops her hand. "I'm sorry."

"I'm not." Maria's hand digs into the sand right beside Ariadne's.

"Why not?"

"Why should I be?" She stares right into Ariadne's eyes.

Ariadne reaches out a hand and touches Maria's thigh. A long thin box appears under her hand. Maria glances down and stiffens. She touches the box with shaky hands, one hand curling around Ariadne's as if to protect her.

"May I see it?" Ariadne asks.

Maria's head comes up fast. She clenches her teeth but Ariadne touches her cheek, tracing soothing circles with her thumb.

"It's all right. You can trust me."

Maria pauses then pushes the box from her thigh onto to Ariadne's. Ariadne opens the box with one hand, her other still on Maria's cheek. Taking off the top she looks down to see a long butcher knife inside the box. When she looks up again Maria leans forward and kisses her.

"I'm sorry," Ariadne says into the kiss.

Maria breathes in quickly as Ariadne stabs her in the stomach.

Arthur raps his knuckles on the table as Maria blinks her eyes against the obtrusive light. She turns her head to the left then right taking in the interrogation room, no furnishings, just a metal table with a silver briefcase on top.

"We have the murder weapon, Mrs. Lopez, all we need is your confession."

She crosses her arms. "I don't know what you mean."

"You killed your brother."

Maria glances at the mirror to her right. "I did not."

A door opens at the side and Ariadne walks in, three ring binder in hand. Maria gasps then seems to think better of it. She stares at Ariadne like she can't quite place her. Ariadne looks up from the file, expression stone.

"Your wife dead, suspicion on your brother and then he's dead too. We know it was you," Arthur continues. "All we need is you to say it."

"Just tell them, Maria," Eames says.

Maria's pushes her chair back from the table staring in shock at Michael standing against the wall behind Arthur. Arthur and Ariadne appear to not notice the fourth person in the room.

"Oh my god."

"Tell us what we need to hear," Arthur pushes.

"Tell them Maria," Michael says.

"You can't be there!" Maria points at Michael. "You can't be here, you can't!"

"Mrs. Lopez, confess." Arthur stands up from the table and walks around to stand beside her. "Tell us you killed him."

"You're dead!" Maria says to Michael, ignoring Arthur. "You are dead!"

"Tell us, Maria," Ariadne says quietly.

"You can't be here; I killed you!" Maria shouts, standing up. "I killed you, Michael, because of what you did! You killed her so I killed you! You can't be here! You are gone, dead!"

Ariadne snaps awake with music fading in her ears and she slips the headphones off. She hands them to their one day hire holding the CD player then bangs a hand on the glass separating them from the driver of the car.

"We're done, stop!"

Arthur checks Maria's pulse to make sure she's still out. "We have three minutes. Pack it up."

"I do hate doing jobs for out sourcing detectives." Eames pulls the needles out of each of their wrists.

"Oh, come on, Eames." Ariadne hands over a large chunk of bills to the driver. "It's like being Sherlock Holmes."

"Why, of course." Eames chuckles. "Rather surreal dream, by the way."

Ariadne grins. "Just pushing boundaries, as always; worked well, didn't it?"

"You even got a kiss for your trouble."

Arthur slams the case closed with a loud snap. "Enough fun, out of the car."

"Police headquarters for this one," Eames says to the boy left in the car with Maria, "mustn't keep our detective waiting."

The three of them stand on the corner as the hired car speeds away. Arthur flips open his cell phone quickly informing their client of the success and the details they learned. Just as Arthur closes his phone, Eames snorts and laughs.

"What?" Arthur asks.

"I forged a ghost."

"Sort of," Ariadne concedes.

"I think it may in fact be the first dead person I've become. Most architects aren't quite as adventurous as you, Ariadne."

Ariadne shrugs and begins to walk down the sidewalk. "Not everyone can be the best."

"She's getting worse." Arthur points at Eames. "I blame you for this."

Eames laughs and slings an arm around Arthur's waist, pulling them both forward after Ariadne.

"Don't pretend it doesn't please you to see our little Ariadne flourish."

Arthur glares and opens his mouth but Eames stops his words by kissing him. Arthur pulls back with an annoyed expression. Eames pouts out a lip.

"Fine." Arthur kisses Eames this time. "But it's still your fault her ego's exploded."

Eames smiles and stokes Arthur's cheek once. "And quite proud of it, thank you, dear."

"I can hear you back there!" Ariadne shouts.

* * *

"Do you come in a three-some now?"

Ariadne and Eames both laugh at Cobb's remark but, unsurprisingly, Arthur raises a disdainful eyebrow instead. Cobb steps back out of the doorway to allow the three of them to enter. Hugs are given all around and they follow Cobb through the hall into the back sitting room.

"Wow..." Arthur breathes out audibly. "It looks..." He turns to Cobb. "It looks just the same."

Cobb only nods and the memories in their eyes are almost physically palatable. Eames nudges Ariadne into a chair then puts a hand on each man's shoulder jolting them back into the present.

"Care to come back to the festivities, boys?"

Cobb blinks then smiles, stepping over to a sideboard where wine bottles and glasses are lined up. He picks up two bottles pointing them at his guests.

"Red or white?"

"Such a fashionable dinner party," Eames points to the left bottle, "red for me then."

Ariadne puts up her hand. "Red, please."

Cobb tilts the other bottle at Arthur. "White?"

Arthur nods, holding out his hand. Nodding as well in reply, Cobb turns back to the sideboard pouring wine for everyone. Ariadne stands up from her chair as glasses are passed around. Last glass poured, Cobb puts down the bottle and turns to the other three. After clinking glasses together everyone suddenly begins speaking at once and the room bursts into activity.

"So! You're here -"

"This can't be Merlot, you -"

"Eames, its wine."

"Dinner's going to be better, so stop complaining."

"You cook?"

"But that's not -"

"Oh, please you don't cook."

"Seeing is believing, Ariadne."

"Maybe not even then."

"So harsh, aren't you?"

"Someone has to have standards among all you men."

Two children run into the room suddenly, weaving around the adults legs like a maze.

"Oh my, who is this beautiful darling?"

"Eames, she's like six."

"No match for you, Ariadne."

"Please."

"Arthur! Arthur! Arthur!"

"Hello, Philipa, you remember me."

"I don't!"

"Thank you, James."

"He might remember you."

"No."

"As charming as his father."

"Eames!"

"Remind me why I'm with you again?"

"Someone remind me."

"Not quite the same as far as I'm aware."

"Thank god."

"I think I'm offended."

Arthur knocks back his wine in one gulp.

"It's not a shot, dear."

"It was this time."

"This is what I get for inviting you three over."

"You love it."

Cobb pours Arthur another glass which he downs before anyone else can notice he had it. Then Cobb puts up his hands for attention.

"All right, all right, very glad to see you all but give me one minute to check on the food." He lightly pushes the children out of the room toward the back. "Don't get into trouble."

"We'll try," Ariadne says with a smile.

Cobb gives Ariadne a look, pointing a finger at her then walks from the room. Eames steps over to the wine, checking the bottle of red. He purses his lips and holds it up.

"I told you, Chianti."

Ariadne sputters. "How can you not like Chianti?"

"I never said I didn't like it," he pours a little more into his glass, "just not what I expected."

Arthur holds out his glass to Eames. "It's wine. Stop complaining."

"You already said that." Eames pours some more white into Arthur's glass.

"The sentiment is still necessary."

"Of course."

Ariadne slips down into a chair, fiddling with various items positioned on table next to her. She picks up a framed photo and stares at a shot of Dom and Mal, heads close together. Arthur steps over to her, taking the photo out of her hand. He traces a circle with his finger over the photo, breathing out slowly then hands it back.

"I took that photo," Arthur says as he sits on the couch then grins slightly. "Cobb didn't like his photo taken then but Mal made him pose."

Eames walks over and sits down beside Arthur, slinging an arm onto the back of the couch. Suddenly, Arthur touches Eames' chin and kisses him twice on the cheek. Eames raises his eyebrows at Ariadne in surprise at the unusual display of affection from the other man. He then turns to look at Arthur. Arthur kisses him on the lips and puts a hand on his knee.

"Why hello, love," Eames says.

Arthur smiles. "Hi."

Ariadne's laughs then her eyes flick to the photo in her hand. She glances at Arthur again, some combination of happiness and sorrow and even relief on his face as he looks at Eames. A sad smile crosses her face and she puts the photo down, turning it away. Arthur leans in close to Eames and whispers something in his ear which makes Eames crinkle his nose up in annoyance though he still smiles.

"You know I don't like my first name," Eames says turning to give Arthur a look.

Arthur smiles again slowly. "It's a fine name."

"Hey." Ariadne points at Arthur defensively. "Why does he get to know your first name but I don't?"

Eames raises an eyebrow. "I think there's a fairly easy answer to that question."

She huffs.

"Unless you're trying to tell me something..." Eames grins lecherously.

Ariadne sighs. "Eames!"

Arthur smacks Eames' chest lightly with the back of his hand. Eames looks at Arthur quickly then beckons Ariadne closer with one finger. She stands up and plops down beside him on the couch. Eames cups a hand around her ear, whispering one word. She turns her head.

"Really?"

Eames shrugs once and waves a hand in the air.

"Huh..." Ariadne slides back to lean against the arm of the couch. "Just Eames does suit you better."

"I'll take that as a compliment."

Cobb appears in the doorway. "You three finished plotting?"

Ariadne gets up swiftly. "I am, can't speak for those two."

"Turning against us the minute you see Cobb again?" Eames feigns a wounded look, standing as well. "Do we mean so little?"

"That's what I have to work with," Ariadne says as she walks past Dom toward the dinning room.

"And you love it," Eames calls after her.

"Eames..." Arthur chides.

Eames peers out of the corner of his eye at Arthur and purses his lips. Arthur raises a warning eyebrow and shakes his head. Eames sighs.

"Fine, your wish is my command."

They hear laughter coming from the other room and a sudden crash.

"Oh!" Ariadne squeaks. "Philipa, you probably shouldn't do that!"

Eames points to the doorway. "I am not quite certain our dear girl knows how to handle children, let alone yours Cobb." He looks between the two men. "I'll let you reminisce."

As Eames walks out, the two former partners smile at each other.

"So," Arthur waves a hand around the room.

Cobb nods. "Yeah, domestic."

"Daddy Dom."

Cobb snorts. "Yeah, that's me." He pauses, eyes gazing out the window. "Always has been." He clears his throat awkwardly then looks at Arthur again. "So, I hear you're doing well."

Arthur shrugs. "I think Eames would say something like 'dream team' here."

"Ariadne?"

Arthur laughs and nods. "You wouldn't believe, Cobb." Then he tilts his head. "Well, actually I guess you would."

Cobb smiles proudly. Arthur's face suddenly turns serious.

"Do you miss it?"

Cobb opens his mouth once then closes it again. He shrugs. "I don't know but..."

"What?"

"I've started dreaming again," Cobb smiles, a real smile like from before Mal died. "I dream when I go to sleep at night."

They fall silent looking at each other, a feeling only those who travel the world of dreams can really understand between them.

Ariadne suddenly pokes her head in. "You guys coming? Eames is going to start getting jealous."

They both nod then Arthur claps a hand on Cobb's shoulder. "Well then, dreamer, show us a good night."

* * *

It takes the two of them fifteen minutes to realize Eames isn't coming back. He'd said five minutes and after ten they still saw no sign of the man. When Arthur goes into the chemist's he finds the shop owner unconscious on the floor. Arthur bolts.

"We have to go." Arthur grabs Ariadne by the arm and pulls her down the next street.

"What? Why? Where's Eames? What's going on?"

"He's gone. Someone's taken him."

"Taken!" She tries to stop but Arthur keeps pulling. "Why? Who?"

"It has to be a reverse extraction."

She scoffs. "That is not real."

"A mark finds out they've been targeted before the extraction so they go to the extractors to find out why they were hired." He gives Ariadne a hard look. "It's when people like us get caught in the middle. We get our brains torn into so one side can find out why the other side hired us."

"You mean they're going to go through Eames?"

"I'm sure Burnam Industries would like to know why Max Titan is sending extractors on their vice president."

Arthur turns a corner and pulls them into the dark cafe below their apartment for this job. Arthur takes the stairs two at a time. Stopping just before their door, he draws out his gun and motions Ariadne around. Quietly she steps over and turns the key in the lock. Swinging the door open, Ariadne jumps back and after no one shoots they both peer around the door frame; empty, all clear.

"We have to find him fast." Arthur is already loading his second gun and laying it on the table.

Ariadne picks up one laptop and passes it to Arthur.

"Reverse extraction is dangerous since it's usually on the fly with no architect," Arthur continues. "The dream ends up being whatever simple situation or place the dreamer makes up right then. It's usually not stable and it can be chaos."

She stares at the side of Arthur's head, her imagination exploding with situations and consequences. Ariadne wants to say something, say 'it'll be all right, we'll find him' but the tense set of Arthur's jaw and the way he types faster than he even shoots stops her.

Thirty-four minutes later, Arthur kicks in the door of a basement ten blocks from the chemist's shop. He shoots both guards standing inside the door before they can draw their weapons. Ariadne runs past him down the steps and finds Eames in a chair hooked up to a PASIV device with a man on his left and a woman on his right also plugged in.

"Arthur!" she shouts.

Arthur strides into the room, looking left and right quickly for any other conscious people. The room is small and bare apart from the three occupied chairs and one table near the foot of the steps. A stack of papers sit on the table. Ariadne picks them up, sees all three of their faces then immediately rips the papers into pieces.

"Eames." Arthur leans over the man and slaps him quickly.

He doesn't wake up. Arthur shakes him hard but he still does not stir.

"Water," Arthur asks, turning back to Ariadne. "Is there water? Something?"

Ariadne leaps back up the stairs and down a hall where one guard had been standing. She finds some briefcases as well as a pitcher. Grabbing the water, she runs back down the stairs, slides past Arthur and empties the pitcher in Eames' face, nothing.

"No…" Ariadne whispers.

"Heavily sedated then." Arthur begins to roll up his sleeve.

"This isn't like Yusuf's. This is more like the kind Mansfield sold us for the Stockholm job. It doesn't do the external kick."

"I'm going in," Arthur starts to lie down on the floor.

"You can't, you -"

"How else are we getting him out before they trip over something in there and fry his brain? Ariadne, now!" Arthur barks.

She doesn't protest more, pulling out another tube and stabbing the needle into Arthur's wrist.

Arthur opens his eyes to a hotel hallway. It makes sense, simple, easy to imagine, and one can get away with the details being fuzzy. Arthur pulls his gun and stalks down the hall slowly, listening at each door. No doubt they have Eames in one just grilling him like it's a real life kidnapping (with a twist). Arthur hopes Eames knows he's dreaming.

Suddenly, he hears a strangled gasp of pain. Arthur can hear someone else talking.

"You are the... and your compan... find them... you can tell us... why you..."

Arthur pinpoints the room, four down, and breaks into a run. He stops at the door, back to the wall.

"You obviously know something, Mr. Eames. You were hired with some parameters, I'm sure. How long are you going to keep me from the information I need?" It's a woman's voice.

"Quite… quite attractive… when you interrogate, darling."

The paint in the hall starts turning black, curling off the walls. Arthur hears what sounds like a kick then another. Eames gasps sharply then bites off a groan. Fire bursts through Arthur and he slams his shoulder into the door.

"What the?" A man jumps up from the chair he was seated in.

Arthur shoots him in the chest, but not to kill, knocking him back into the chair.

The woman jumps into view, gun trained on him. "Who are…" Her eyes widen then she scowls. "Ah ha, one of the other two, I see."

Eames lies to her right curled up around himself on the floor. Arthur can see blood pooled around him staining the carpet and his left arm looks broken. A long cut snakes up his cheek into his hair where it's matted with blood.

Arthur lets out a snarl and shoots the woman twice in the knees before she can react. She screams, falling onto the bed. Before she can get up, Arthur shoots Eames in the head then turns the gun on himself.

They both gasp awake at the same time. Arthur stands up in an instant, rushing to Eames' side. Eames breathes fast, gasping for air like he's drowning, eyes still clouded with the ghost of dream pain. Arthur takes his hand and Eames' eyes snap into focus on Arthur's face.

"Arthur?"

"We have to go, now," Arthur says.

"It's clear, come on!" Ariadne shouts from the top of the stairs.

Arthur helps Eames out of the chair and they race up the stairs before their opponents rise back to consciousness.

Max Titan is dully informed of the counter attack, thus the forfeit of the job. They don't send hit men.

The trio escapes India to Ariadne's Paris apartment to lie low. For a few weeks she can hear Eames wake up from nightmares, residual traces of a shoddy, unplanned extraction combined with too powerful sedatives. Always there is Arthur's voice bringing Eames back down.

Once she hears Arthur quietly singing, _'Quand il me prend dans ses bras, Il me parle tout bas, Je vois la vie en rose...'_

_

* * *

_

They wake up to a city street in the early evening, tall buildings and shining metal after the style of New York City. All three of them are decked out in black; Ariadne with a tight leather jacket zipped up to the neck and her hair in a bun; Eames in a black suit and shirt; and Arthur sporting a three-piece pinstripe suit, white shirt, and black tie. Ariadne and Arthur look down at their outfits then to Eames grinning between them.

"Fantasy dreaming?" Ariadne asks.

Eames tips down his sunglasses slightly and just smirks.

"This is why you should dream your own building, Ariadne," Arthur says straightening his tie. "Then Eames can't dress you up."

"You both look marvelous. You should thank me." Eames puts his hands on their shoulders. "Now, off we go."

"You get your clothes on for the club," Arthur says, pulling out his gun. "Meet you there."

Eames stares at him. "Is that supposed to be a joke?"

"No idea what you mean."

Ariadne claps twice. "Enough flirting, secrets to steal!"

Eames clears his throat. "Of course, my dear."

"See you on the roof," Arthur says to Ariadne.

Then Arthur and Ariadne both turn and go off in different directions. Eames stays where he stands. He takes off his sunglasses, stares at himself in the reflection for a minute then puts them back on. He is about three inches taller with darker brown hair parted fetchingly on the side, sharp chin and blue eyes. Eames rolls his shoulders and flicks out his wrists. Then he walks forward down the sidewalk.

Three blocks down, Eames opens the door to a club with soft blue lighting on the bottom floor of a tall office building, Ariadne's clever design. Inside the club are two bars, tables, and a dance floor. Arthur is already positioned in the back near the emergency exit to the stairs. Regina, their mark, sits at the main bar in a knock out pink dress. Eames comes up behind her and whispers in her ear.

"Any chance of you being the pink panther?"

Regina laughs without turning around. "You never were good at jokes, Paul."

She turns around on her bar stool and pulls Eames to her by his collar, kissing him. Eames touches her long blond hair and kisses her back. Lips still locked, he reaches behind her and picks up her drink. Backing out of the kiss, he downs the drink in one gulp.

"Buy you a drink then, Reg?"

She shakes her head with a big smile. "I was enjoying that drink, thank you."

"All the more reason for me to get you another."

In the back of the club Arthur scowls at the exchange. He might not look like Eames right now but Arthur knows who 'Paul' really is. It doesn't help that Regina's Paul has the same sort of cheek as Eames. Arthur resists marching over to the bar and shoving Ms. Pink off her stool; like that dress would really impress anyone.

Arthur shakes his head once to bring back his focus. The projections in the bar all seem normal, no one staring or pulling surprise guns. There had been a bit of information that Regina had looked into dream protection. It was unclear if she'd followed through completely but it was possible she had trained for a few things; best to be prepared either way. Arthur's fingers flex on the gun held behind his back.

Meanwhile, ten stories up from the club below, Ariadne creeps down the dark halls of the office building. It's after hours so there should logically be no projections here but Ariadne treads carefully regardless.

"I feel like a cat burglar with this leather," Ariadne mutters to herself. "Thank you, Eames."

Turning to the left, she comes to Regina's corner office. Dropping to one knee, Ariadne pulls a small case out of her back pocket and goes for the lock. A few delicate twists and turns then the door swings open under her hand.

She smiles. "Skills."

Standing again, she strides into the room. A long metal desk sits in front of the big glass windows straight in front of her. To the left are more windows looking out over the city with a red couch in front of them. There are stacks of documents on the low table by the couch, a few papers on the floor. To Ariadne's right three book cases full to the max line the wall. She turns and walks over to them. Some of these books are not what they seem.

Ariadne sighs. "Better get started."

She begins to take books off the shelves.

"So," Eames puts his second beer down on the bar, "I think it's time for a dance."

Regina chuckles. "Oh really? What makes you think I'm going to dance with you after last time? I'm not sure my shoes recovered."

Eames spreads his arms wide. "Give a man a second chance, love."

A flicker of surprise crosses Regina's face at the tag and the inhabitants of the bar look over at Eames.

Arthur tenses and stands up straight, gun hand falling to his side. He sees Eames freeze for a moment then he steps forward and kisses Regina again. She melts against him and the projections turn away.

Arthur frowns. "Worked for him."

"What if I say please?" Eames asks, arms still around the woman.

Regina smiles slowly. "So, say it then."

"Please, Reg, will you dance with me?"

"I suppose I can be brave."

Eames steps back, takes her hand, and the two walk out onto the dance floor together. Eames swings them around, arm on her waist and they rock comfortably to the slow tune. Regina smiles happily and lays her head against Eames' chest.

"I definitely needed this," she remarks quietly after a moment.

Eames smiles, Regina playing right into his hands. "Hell at work?"

"Oh, Paul," she sighs heavily, "you would not believe."

Eames strokes a hand over her hair. "Really?"

"Just... very busy."

"Could help to talk about it, if you wanted."

Regina just makes a noncommittal noise and Eames resists a frustrated groan. He turns them with the music closer to the back of the dance floor. He flashes Arthur a look, 'going in for the big guns.' Arthur nods back.

"Is it the company merger?" Eames asks.

She stiffens in his arms. The projections all abruptly turn their heads to watch Eames and Regina.

"How could you..." She looks up. "Paul, how do you know about that?"

"Brian, mentioned something about big changes in your company." Eames keeps Paul's face innocent. "Seemed like what it must be."

"No," Regina looks away from him, "No. It's not going to happen." She looks back with eyes of steel. "I won't let it."

Ariadne hears what sounds like a click to her right. She turns and stares at the second shelf of the middle book case. She pulls down books quickly, throwing them to the floor. There in the middle of the shelf, behind the books hides a small sliver safe.

"Found you," Ariadne singsongs.

"Regina," Eames stops moving them, "You can't stop the merger, can you?"

"What?"

"It's out of your control. You're not the top anymore."

Regina steps back out of his arms and stares accusingly. "What do you know, Paul? You left the company. You don't know anything!"

The projections all stop moving, eyes locked on the pair. Eames glances surreptitiously at the crowd focusing on the two of them, Regina oblivious to the change. Eames shoots a look at Arthur.

Suddenly, Arthur springs to life, kicks over a table with a loud crash and punches the nearest projection.

"What the fuck?" the man Arthur punched shouts.

Everyone in the club swings around to focus on the commotion in the back. Arthur lashes out at another person and knocks over a chair. As if a switch is flipped, all the projections begin to move and converge on Arthur.

"Time to go!" Arthur says and bangs through the door behind him, giving chase.

Regina barely glances at the moving people, all just a back drop to her. Eames pretends not to notice as well and steps closer to Regina again.

"I'm sorry," he says, "I thought it was all finalized. I didn't mean to upset you."

She huffs. "Don't you worry, Paul! I'm not without out options or plans and nothing will change if I have my way!"

Eames can't help but smile in triumph.

A light on the surface of the safe suddenly blinks red as Ariadne looks at it. She grins and keys in the code on the front. The lock clicks and the door swings open. Ariadne reaches inside and pulls out the manila folder within. She picks up a letter opener from Regina's desk and slices the folder open. Pulling out the two sheets inside, Ariadne reads them quickly.

"Huh..." She bites her lip. "Not what I expected. These corporate types sure are cut throat."

She folds up the papers and stuffs them into an inside pocket of her jacket. Closing the safe, Ariadne leaves the books where they lie and walks out of the office. She jogs down the hall until she reaches a door reading 'emergency exit.' Opening the door, she heads up the stairs toward the roof.

Arthur scales the stairs as fast as he can. It seems Regina did in fact receive a bit of training; one of the most basic, to turn your projections into armed security when there is a disturbance. Arthur starting a fight in a calm bar out of nowhere certainly qualifies as a disturbance.

Now, Arthur is chased by at least twenty projections with guns firing. He doesn't even have time to fire back or they will catch up. All Arthur can do until he reaches the roof is run and keep his head down, a bit more intense than expected.

"So," Eames says, knowing it's time for him to leave, "I guess I haven't helped your evening as hoped."

She crosses her arms. "No."

"Maybe I should go."

Regina sighs and walks back toward the bar. "No, it's not your fault. I'm really stressed out and you were just trying to help. How about another drink?"

When she turns back around Paul is no where to be seen, just a man she does not recognize exiting through the back stairs. She sighs with disappointment and sits down on her old stool.

"Scared another one away," she says to herself and downs a vacant drink by her elbow.

The minute Arthur flies through the door to the roof, breathing heavy, he spins around and starts shooting. The first two people to come through the door are mowed down by bullets before they can raise their guns. Arthur turns again and runs for cover behind a raised metal vent. He slams his back against the vent and reloads. Popping up again, he begins firing.

"Shit..." he gasps as a flood of projections continue out the door of the stairs, "too many."

He can bottle neck them for a bit but Arthur knows it's not long before he'll be over run. There's no telling for sure if Ariadne has the information yet.

Arthur keeps firing, two more going down but three projections dodge his shots, one vaulting over Arthur's cover. Arthur lashes out and hits the man in the knee as he jumps, upsetting his momentum. The man tumbles over and cracks his head on the cement. Before Arthur can regroup, however, another projection pistol whips him from the right. He goes down and spits blood. Jumping back up, Arthur pulls a second gun from his coat and shoots the offender as he turns.

More people continue to flow toward Arthur's meager cover. Grabbing the projection's gun along with his own, Arthur jumps up and runs in the opposite direction. Bullets fly past, one grazing his shoulder. Arthur hisses with pain but doesn't stop. He turns a corner around groaning machinery housing then hugs the wall for cover, shooting back.

Just then a bullet hits him full on in the forearm. Arthur screams, his one gun going flying. He shoots back with his good hand, taking out the person who shot him. Arthur flips around the corner again, back to the wall, and tries to just breathe. His arm hurts like hell.

Suddenly, a man appears around the corner faster than Arthur expects and tackles him. Arthur can't stop a sharp yelp as he lands on his wounded arm, pain shooting through him. The projection punches him harshly in the face then pulls out his gun. Arthur breathes in quickly at the sound of the gun shot then sees blood appear on the projection's chest. He looks back to see Eames standing over them, gun in hand and face full of fury. He shoves the shot man off Arthur then crouches down, touching Arthur's face.

"You all right, love?" Eames pokes and prods Arthur, breathing fast. "Oh, your arm; Arthur, does it hurt?"

"God, you're gorgeous," Arthur says breathlessly.

Eames' eyes lock on Arthur's face and he smiles, calming down. "Sorry I'm late."

Eames stands up just as another projection rounds the corner. He shoots her without hesitation in the chest before she can raise her weapon. Reaching out, Eames gently pulls Arthur up by his good arm.

"Best be off." He shoves Arthur ahead of him in the other direction. "Our girl should have the information we need. Let's go meet her."

"We're not going to make it that far with this many projections," Arthur counters, running anyway.

"Well," Eames runs backwards and shoots over Arthur's shoulder, "I'd prefer to not resort to gun suicide just yet if you don't mind."

A bullet whips by so close both men duck and shoot back in time, two more projections dropping. Thirty people at least still follow them weaving in and out of the sparse roof cover. Arthur hisses again in pain and clamps his hand over his arm.

"Let's hurry then."

"Right, my -" Eames begins then is cut off when a shot tears through his outstretched hand.

Eames shouts and stumbles, blood spraying in slasher-movie fashion.

"Eames!" Arthur grabs Eames before he can fall and pulls him along.

They round a corner and Arthur all but drops Eames behind another vent, ducking the bullet fire which hits metal sending sparks everywhere. Rising to his knees, he takes Eames' gun. Arthur breathes in then peeks out over the edge shooting with his one good hand.

"That is not pleasant," Eames groans, staring at his mangled hand.

Arthur glances quickly at the other man and squeezes Eames' shoulder as much as his injured arm will allow. Eames looks up at him.

"Looks like we won't have to shoot ourselves."

Eames laughs. "Oh fabulous, they can do it for us."

Arthur's gun clicks empty just as a man jumps up onto the vent above them.

"Hey!"

Arthur and Eames turn at the voice to see Ariadne running toward them. She leaps over them onto the vent and kicks the man in the chest sending him flying back so far he hits the edge of the roof and tumbles off the building. Gun in hand, Ariadne shoots the four nearest people with perfect shots, one each.

"Wonder woman," Eames says with a ton of surprise.

Tossing the handgun aside, Ariadne pulls a machine gun off her back and hoists it up firing into the advancing projections.

"Time to go!" She shouts back at Arthur and Eames. "I have what we need."

"My hero," Arthur says deadpan.

"Come on." Ariadne jumps back down, pulling both men up to their feet.

Shooting still, Ariadne walks backward then drops the gun. She turns, grabs Arthur and Eames by their coats and bolts. The three of them run until they reach the edge of the roof. With a sudden bound, Ariadne leaps off the building into empty space dragging the men with her.

The trio jolt awake together in the hotel room, sitting up as one. The maid they paid off starts in surprise. Regina still lies asleep on the bed beside Eames. Arthur stands up from his chair and begins packing up the PASIV device. Eames sits for a moment looking at his hand then gets up too.

"Have fun?" he asks Ariadne as she rises from her chair.

"You gave me the leather to start with." She points at him. "Of course I would find a machine gun. It was fate."

"That was a pretty big army of projections." Arthur stands up, voice terse. "You certainly needed it."

"Are you angry I kissed the mark?" Eames asks Arthur suddenly.

Arthur jerks his head at Eames then turns away again, picking up the case.

"You kissed her?" Ariadne looks like she's fighting a grin.

"I had to make her feel comfortable."

Arthur snorts. "That's what you call it?"

"You kissed her more than once, didn't you?" Ariadne grins for real this time. "Tsk tsk."

"Oh, come now, you both can't blame me; just business. When you're the forger you can kiss any mark you need to!"

"Fine," Arthur shrugs heading to the door, "I will."

Eames huffs, paying the maid quickly before following Arthur. "That is not what I meant."

"All right, all right," Ariadne puts a hand on both their backs nudging them through the door. "We'll just keep the kissing between you two, deal?"

"You're part of this deal?" Eames raises an eyebrow.

"Someone has to keep you two in line."

Arthur slams the door behind them. "Let's go, now."

"I do love when you use your authoritative voice."

Arthur stops short and shoots a seething glare at Eames

"All right!" Ariadne snaps her fingers then shoos them with her hands. "Go, go, go!"

* * *

Ariadne, Arthur, and Eames sit across a glass topped table from their most recent client. The man slowly stirs a spoon in a cup of tea. A black suited assistant stands stiffly at the door.

"I trust this will in no way lead back to me."

Arthur shakes his head. "It was a clean extraction. You have nothing to worry about."

The man nods once and puts down his cup of tea, folding his hands together. "The information then?"

"The payment?" Ariadne counters.

The man nods to his assistant who goes over to a door in the wall and pulls out a black briefcase. Everyone stands up as if on cue. Eames takes a thumbnail drive out of his coat pocket and hands it to Arthur.

Arthur holds out the drive. "All the details we learned about their expansion plans as well as the information they had on you."

The executive purses his lips in an unreadable expression then takes the drive from Arthur. The assistant holds out the briefcase which Ariadne takes. Everyone in the room seems to relax slightly.

"It's been a pleasure working with you." Their client holds out his hand, shaking with Arthur. "I'm glad I listened to those who told me you were the best."

Eames raises an eyebrow. "Glad to know our reputation precedes us."

"Oui, Quite a reputation." The man nods and the assistant walks to the door opening it inward. "I do hope I am never on the other end of this sort of transaction."

The three extractors smile at once but say nothing. Arthur nods again then walks to the door, Eames and Ariadne a step behind. The three ride the elevator down in silence and it's not until they are outside and a few blocks away that Ariadne begins to laugh.

"Yes?" Eames asks her.

"Who'd have thought we'd become the best in the business?"

"I don't know about that," Arthur replies but his eyes disagree.

"Oh, come on." Ariadne waves a hand. "Cobb was the best and may I remind you who his protégé was?"

Eames scoffs. "One job, dear, not a protégé."

"The job was inception, three levels down."

Eames and Arthur both make 'hmm' noises in concession.

Ariadne twirls around as they walk over a bridge, case swinging in her hand and an idyllic view of Paris to her back. Then she stops and leans against the railing of the bridge. Both men halt in front of her as she smirks at them.

"Well, regardless of whether you think we're the best or not I'd say that," she points back the way they came, "was a job well done."

Eames suddenly scoops Ariadne up into the air and twirls her around.

"Of course it was, my dear girl, because we are indeed the best. No one builds the world like you."

Ariadne laughs, nearly dropping the briefcase. "Put me down!"

"Eames," Arthur chides, touching his arm.

Eames smirks and sets Ariadne back on her feet.

"Would you rather I pick you up?" Eames asks Arthur.

Arthur just gives him a look but the corners of his mouth turn ever slightly upward. Eames reaches out and pulls Arthur to him. He tucks a hand in Arthur's hair and for once Arthur doesn't fight the public displays of affection placing his hands on Eames' waist, kissing him hard and long. Ariadne wolf whistles until they break apart, Arthur giving her a glare.

"So," Eames begins, putting an arm over Ariadne's shoulder, other arm still around Arthur's waist. "Shall we enjoy a Paris dinner before we leave?"

"We should get going, just in case."

Ariadne gives Arthur an incredulous look. "We can spare hour."

Arthur sighs then smiles, "All right."

"Wow, that was easy," Ariadne says with wide eyes.

"Ah yes," Eames kisses both their cheeks. "Fashionable dinner before fleeing the scene of the crime, I love it."

"We can afford it." Ariadne shakes the briefcase.

"We are dropping that at the hotel," Arthur says sternly.

Ariadne salutes. "Yes, sir."

Eames gives them both a smile. "Right then my loves; let's find a dimly lit establishment who will serve the likes of us."

"Likes of you," Arthur corrects.

This time Eames sighs while Adriane snickers.

"Don't worry," Ariadne says touching Eames' hand on her shoulder. "It's Paris; everywhere is dimly lit and delicious."

"Quite right." Eames nods at her and they walk on down the bridge close together.

Another job done, another success, no evidence, all for once according to plan; another day alive, a rare day without running, a day when they can leave and not feel teeth and bullets at their backs; a day to go to dinner if they want to. Despite the danger and because of the thrill, the joy of creation, it's their life.

The architect, the forger, and the point man walk down the bridge in Paris, happy. The dream crime trio lives on.


End file.
